The Legend of Liya'ad
by carnifax
Summary: RoyGarth/SpAqua. It was just his luck, that Atlantean lore would resurface as far from Atlantis as possible, where no one could help him, or ease his teammates' anxieties, or even help plan an escape route.
1. Being Him

**The Legend of Liya'ad**

By Carnifax  
Teen Titans  
Garth-Roy  
Rated T  
Drama/Romance  
_It was just his luck, that Atlantean lore would resurface as far from Atlantis as possible, where no one could help him, or ease his teammates' anxieties, or even help plan an escape route._

So you know that plotbunny that every single fandom _can_ use, and _does_ use? The one where there's body-switching? And there's really awkward sexual tension because the Main Character is in the Love Interest's body, and is able to (ahem) study their anatomy for (ah-_hem_) purely scientific reasons?

Yeah, "that one." This _is_ "that one." But despite the unoriginality, the reason it's so popular is because… it's so much fun!

Feel free to enjoy:

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This can't be happening. This isn't possible.

Garth stared into the mirror at what should've been his own face. But green eyes stared back, filled with more fear and confusion than he'd ever seen reflected in them.

It was written into old Atlantean lore, something called _Liya'ad_, a day when a young adult would transform into the one he or she was to spend forever with. There were tales of heroes turning into beautiful women, having their portraits painted, and then searching the land and sea for their soon-to-be wives.

There were even tales of mermaidian princesses falling in love with sailors—probably sparking fallacies like the singing sirens, or Disney's _The Little Mermaid_—and there were certainly enough tales of Atlanteans falling in love with each other. But the transformation, which used to happen exactly on the seventeenth birthday, eventually fell into genetic darkness where it grew obsolete and then vanished completely.

And every generation, for hundreds of years now, thought _Liya'ad_ was only a rumor made up by gossiping wives back in the day. Garth was no exception.

But then, months past his own seventeenth birthday, Garth woke up to find himself taller, tanner, with red hair and startlingly green eyes. The eyes were new—he'd never seen behind that monotone mask—but everything else he recognized, whether it was the muscles, the jawline, or the even, salmon-pink lips that Garth couldn't seem to stop running his tongue over.

The prince put his palms on the sink, leaning forward until his nose nearly touched the mirror. He ran a finger over the arch of his cheekbones, and sighed.

_Flawless._

It was just his luck, that Atlantean lore would resurface as far from Atlantis as possible, where no one could help him, or ease his teammates' anxieties, or even help plan an escape route. It was even _more_ suiting that his 'soul mate' was a hotheaded, albeit very attractive, teammate, who Garth happened to consider his best friend.

The day got even worse when the soft _whoosh_ of a hydraulic door reminded him that—whoops—he had forgotten to lock his bedroom door, amidst his wakeup freakout.

"Shafty?" Karen asked once she saw 'Roy' standing stiffly in the bathroom's doorway. "What's up? Why are you in here?"

"Karen," Garth said slowly. He tried to take a step forward, but two stingers were aimed at his chest almost as soon as the name left his lips.

"Who the _hell_ are you?" she hissed. "Raise your hands above your head. Now!"

He linked his fingers behind his head and tried to smile. "Karen, listen to me…"

"What's your name?" she demanded. "Where's my teammate?"

"It's me! It's Aqualad!"

"What are you, a shapeshifter?" Her laugh was brief and jarring. "You aren't a snatcher, I was just having breakfast with Roy, you couldn't have absconded with his body—"

"Karen, I'm _Garth_." He lowered his hands a little, but returned them to his head when she tightened her grip on the stingers. "I don't know what's going on either—I just woke up like this. Karen, _please_."

"Do something with water, then," she challenged, reaching for her communicator.

"I can't, I already tried that! And Karen, _don't_ call Roy!"

The leader paused for a moment, thumb only resting on the _Speak_ button of the device. "Why not?"

"Just…" He shook his head. "Just listen to me, for _one_ minute. Then you can call whoever you want. Okay?"

One stinger still pointed at his chest, she nodded, face solemn. "One minute, fine. Go."

Garth suddenly didn't know where to begin. "There's this old Atlantean story, like a fable, except it was apparently _true_—and it said that sometimes people, at their seventeenth birthday, for just one day, would turn into their soul mate, or one true love, or whatever you want to call it." He swallowed. "And I'm not turning seventeen today, but maybe the tale evolved for simplicity—and I've turned into Roy. I don't know how, or why, or what it means. But I'm Aqualad! So don't sting me." He edged away from her. "Please?"

—

"_It's all right, little prince." His mother's soft breath at his ear was such a comfort, her arms linking around his tiny body. He couldn't have been more than three, but he could remember this particular day perfectly._

_He had woken to an unfamiliar man shaking him awake, begging him to fetch the queen—'It's urgent,' he kept saying, 'Please Garth, they won't let me in!'_

_And of course, scared beyond his wits, the prince had started bawling, which collected the attention of numerous guards, two ambassadors, four of his seven cousins and, finally, the queen._

_She ended up holding the young boy close, regarding the stranger with a surprisingly pleasant smile._

"_It's all right," she murmured again. Scooping Garth up, she nodded to the guards in dismissal and led the other man into her private parlor. Once she had the prince settled in her lap, she smiled at the stranger. "When did you notice the difference?"_

"_I woke up like this!" His tone was shockingly flippant for someone outside the royal family, let alone someone who had burst into the family's private sectors._

_Garth whined, hiding his face in her shoulder. "Mother—"_

"_Shh, darling." She held his chin, turning him to face the stranger. "Look. This is your cousin, even if she looks different."_

"_Garth, it's me, Mara." The man grinned._

_The prince just cowered. "You're not my cousin! Mara's a girl! And pretty! And she's younger!"_

"_Shh, it's all right," his mother continued, in a soft voice. "Little one, look at me, it's all right." She smiled when his violet eyes finally stared up into hers. "There we are. Now, do you remember a story I told you? A bedtime story?"_

_He sniffed, and gave a wary glance over his shoulder at the stranger. "Which story?" he asked, turning quickly to his mother when Mara smiled at him._

"_The one where the princess, when she became of age, turned into her true love for a day. The one I told you a few weeks ago… You asked me if that would happen to you, I remember you asking that."_

"_You said it doesn't happen anymore!" Garth whimpered, bunching the fabric of her shawl in his hands._

"_I believe I told you it doesn't happen _often_, my love. It doesn't happen always, but it doesn't happen never, either."_

_Garth sniffed again, wiping at his eyes with his tiny palms. After a moment, he looked at the stranger, and squinted. Mara raised her hand out to him; he took it and, considering for a second, let out an amused giggle._

"_You're handsome!" he explained, teasingly, and curled up in the queen's arms with a yawn._

—

Garth sat upright on his mattress when the door slid open, revealing a perplexed but relieved Karen. She came into the room, and held out a sheet of paper to him.

He looked it over, but the letters and numbers and plus signs meant nothing to him. "This is…?"

"A genetic summary. Your DNA is _still_ your DNA." She shrugged. "I thought you Atlanteans were weird before, but this takes the cake."

Garth smiled. "So this means you believe me?"

"Absolutely." But then she narrowed her eyes. "Can you elucidate on the whole _being Speedy_ thing, though? He's, what, your"—she snorted—"soul mate? I mean… C'mon. Shafty? And you? Nuh uh."

"I could call Orin," Garth volunteered, simply because he had no answer for her. He only knew the myth, but obviously the myth wasn't entirely factual. "He might—"

"Not a chance."

Garth recoiled at that, a little jarred. "Why not?"

She held up a finger. "First reason: I won't have a crew of leaders running our Tower. If we let in Orin, Roy will want an arrow-y reunion, and he'll drag in Ollie and that tyke Mia, and _who knows_ what kind of mentor the twins have—"

"I get it." He frowned. "What's your next reason?"

"Right." She grinned. "Second reason: Can you _imagine_ Orin's reaction when you tell him that your _true love_ is _Speedy_?" She laughed, patting him on the shoulder. "_I_ don't even believe it. Are you sure this myth thing is—"

"My cousin turned into her soul mate when I was young," he said quickly, "and she found him after about a year of searching. They were the perfect couple—since they _were_ picked by fate to be together—but, just before I had to leave, he died."

"How?" Karen asked when Garth went silent. "Naturally?"

The Atlantean shook his head. "He was swimming close to the surface—they both were—and a stray harpoon off a human vessel hit him." Garth went quiet again, but only for a moment. "She took him back to the palace, but the healers couldn't help him, and he passed. She didn't have the will to find anyone else. By the time I left, she had—"

He cut himself off abruptly, apparently snapping out of some deep memory, and shook his head. "She seemed to give up all hope. But their love _was_ the epitome of perfection, and I think the myth is at least _based_ on truth."

Karen sighed. "So," she said slowly, arms crossed tightly across her chest, "you… and Roy. Jesus Christ."

"But there are millions of Atlanteans who have never found their soul mates!" he cut in. "This doesn't have to mean anything. If we just keep him from finding me like _this_, he wouldn't have to know. It's only supposed to last for one day—I _can_ avoid him for that long."

She shifted from one foot to the other, ill at ease with that idea. "But if this is _divine will_, or whatever you say it is… Shouldn't you try it out with him? Or at least _tell_ Shafty? If someone came up to me one day and told me the gods had sent them, I'd be a little puzzled, but if it turned out perfectly… I'd be happy I took the chance. Right?"

Garth raised a skeptical brow, lifting his hand to run it through his hair—and then he remembered his hair was temporarily much shorter, and dropped it. "Usually this happens with people who have never met, Bee. I don't know what happens when it's me, let alone when it's a guy, and _especially_ not if it's my best frie—Hey, what are y—"

He jerked back when her mouth fell open and she grabbed his face between her hands, her palms cradling his jaw.

"Bee, what—"

"I've never seen Shafty's eyes," she whispered, pulling him closer. She rose up on her toes to get a better look, and let out a whistle. "I don't know why he doesn't show 'em off, they're _gorgeous_."

Garth chuckled. "I did the same thing."

"You checked out his eyes, too?" Smiling, she let him go. And then her expression changed—she bit her lip, and looked at him through her eyelashes—and her eyes raked down his body. "And what _else_ of his body did you, a-hem, _check out_, hmm?"

"By Posei—Karen, that's—I _wouldn't_—You just have a dirty mind!" he accused, a finger pointed directly at her. But even with his darker skin, he couldn't hide the pink tinge in his cheeks.

"So, you _did_?"

His mouth fell open. "I did not!" came his indignant retort. "And I _will_ not!"

She rolled her eyes, moving toward the door again. "Right, right. You're going to have to use the bathroom _sometime_, Garth, just remember that." She winked over her shoulder.

"Wait, Bee—so should I just stay in here?"

She made a phone with her hand and spoke without turning around. "Ring me when you need food, or something. Lock your door. I've got to switch the security feeds before anyone sees them."

* * *

Next chapter'll be up sometime this weekend… but only if you drop by and say hello in a review.

For the record: This is part two of Carnipalooza 2009. Speaking of which—I only just realized that this story references a seventeenth birthday. This (like the "Volte-Face 17" thing) is a complete coincidence... Although usually two coincidences happening at the same time, in itself, is a coincidence... Non?


	2. Telling Him

**The Legend of Liya'ad**

To address the nickname: Karen calls Roy "Shafty" in the comics.

I'm glad no one thinks this is silly. Thank you...  
**Bizerko-Kittykins  
Astrum Ululatum**- It never is as easy as locking the door. In fact, it's not even so easy to stay in the room...  
**Xment2bursX**- I debated on taking out the baby!Garth part, but decided to keep it in because he's so damn cute! And just keep that thought about the "lower levels" in mind for chapter three.  
**writteninhaste**  
**Aime Atem Itsumo**  
**heavenmidori**

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It was three in the afternoon, and Garth was getting incredibly bored. He loved his room, but his involuntary confinement was driving him mad, and there were only so many times he could read the same books, or play solitaire, or see how many pull-ups Roy's body could do. Of course, he had thought of _other_ ways to test Roy's body—and his disobedient mind had come up with many varied, often unclean ways, much to his chagrin, probably thanks to Karen's comments—but it seemed a little voyeuristic, as if it would encroach upon Roy's privacy.

And so, when Karen knocked on his door and told him that the others were all taking an afternoon siesta, Garth was ecstatic to get out of the room for a few minutes.

He went directly to the main room, moving in a jovial manner that Roy himself probably would've been ashamed of. He was only humming a very quiet song, something happy by Debussy maybe, as he fixed himself a little plate of snacks. He brought it to the pool area and settled at the edge, his feet dangling in the water, the plate in his lap.

The cucumbers he was eating must have been extraordinarily crunchy, because Garth didn't hear the hall door slide open, or the hastened footsteps coming closer, or even the sound of an arrow being drawn across a strained bowstring.

But then two words came from behind him, articulated carefully through the voice's fury. "Turn around."

Garth jerked upright, startled from his contentment. He felt as if his insides had been twisted around and lifted out of place, then drenched in freezing cold acid—not for fear of Roy, but rather in apprehension. What was he supposed to tell Roy, assuming the redhead listened to the ludicrous Atlantean myth and didn't just kill the look-alike?

"Turn around," the voice repeated, and Garth obeyed this time. He shifted the plate onto the tiles and got to his feet, raising his hands and trying not to make any sudden movements.

Based on the way Roy's mouth fell open for half a second, Garth figured he wasn't expecting the perpetrator to be himself.

"What the hell _are_ you?" the archer growled, shifting closer. The tip of the arrow prodded Garth's chest, and without thinking, the Atlantean took a step back.

He was in the pool before he realized it, four feet below the surface, and he felt like an anvil. This new body was heavy and awkward in the water, and there were no genetic enhancements to make him swim easier. The jeans he was wearing caught around his ankles, the t-shirt billowing up into his face.

And stupidly, without any reasoning about his current condition, Garth exhaled in frustration. Typically—being an Atlantean—he could just sweep water into his gills and filter out more oxygen, but he was _human_ now. He couldn't breathe. And this, more than the weight or the unaccommodating clothes, made panic cloud his judgment.

He pumped at the water with his already-laden feet and flailed his hands ineffectively, teeth gritted, accidentally sucking water into his throat. He coughed and instinctively inhaled, only serving to bring in more water and initiate more coughing.

Garth's feet were touching the bottom of the pool now, at the 'shallow' 12-foot end. He tried to push off and barely succeeded, sinking back in a matter of seconds. He tried again, thighs burning from untrained distress, but the efforts were futile—and he was beginning to succumb to the water in his lungs, his eyes clouding black, his body having been deprived of air for too long.

The exertion was too much to handle. Just as Garth felt himself go limp to the darkness, and as some foreign hand seemed to get a hold on his wrist, a painfully paradoxical thought occurred to him: _The exalted prince of Atlantis is about to drown_.

What seemed like seconds later, Garth came to, coughing up too much water from an achy throat. As soon as he could focus, he noticed Karen kneeling next to him and Roy standing a distance away, the former worried while the latter simply looked bewildered.

Karen helped him to his feet, her hands keeping him steady in case he toppled over, her eyes searching his face for reassurance.

Garth tried to muster a smile. "I can't swim," he remarked hoarsely.

She laughed, though it was still stressed and nervous. "I notic—"

"Okay," Roy cut in, "now that he… it… me? Now that _I_ am not dead, can you explain _why_ the _fuck_ my clone is in the Tower?"

Garth, coughing again, waved a hand for Karen to explain.

"It's not a clone, Shafty, it's Garth." She shrugged in response to his incredulous stare. "I know. It's weird. But it's true."

"He practically just _drowned_, Bee, how can you say it's the Fishst—"

"I'm human for the time being," Garth muttered between coughs. "I'm you—but only until tomorrow, _hopefully_."

"What the hell does that mean, 'hopefully'?" Roy, unconvinced, folded his arms and glared. "So if you're me—which is fucking _insane_, by the way—how did you _become_ me? And can you put a mask on? Or, like, sunglasses? You're freaking me out."

Garth nodded, understanding. "Because I look like you."

"No," Roy said, to his surprise, "because you're doing your typical 'intense eye thing,' which is okay when _you_ do it, but…" He looked away, scooping up his fallen bow from the floor, apparently finding Garth too much to look at right now. "You usually stare intensely with purple eyes. It's fucking _scary_ when you do that with green ones. It's, uh… _snake-y_." Roy glanced up at the pair, who were both giving him mirrored looks of shock. "What?"

"You don't mind the clone thing, but the _eyes_ are weird?" Garth chuckled. "Something's wrong with you."

Roy snorted. "Look in a mirror lately, fishy? Something's a _tiny_ bit wrong with you too. So why are you me?"

"It's…" The earlier apprehension returned to Garth then, especially when Karen started to leave. "It's a little complicated."

"I assumed that, since you're _me_ right now." Roy glanced over his shoulder to see the door close behind Karen, and then met Garth's eyes again. He could sense the prince's hesitation. "So what's going on?"

"It's… an _Atlantean_ thing," came his careful explanation. "It's kind of… based on an ancient mythological phenomenon…"

Roy sighed suddenly, making the prince recoil. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this myth very much?"

Garth laced his fingers together, staring down at his palms. "Well—"

Roy leaned into Garth's line of sight and gave him a grin. "Will you just spit it out? I promise not to punch you," he offered, as if it were a generous proposition.

But Garth pushed him back a little, stalking away from the pools in order to create some space. "You might anyway," he muttered darkly, with a fleeting look over his shoulder. "Listen, before I explain… You have to know that _I_ didn't choose this."

"Okay, _you_ didn't choose this… 'This' what?"

Garth turned sharply and shook his head. "And I mean, this _isn't_ anything that _I_ would've ever done on purpose. And I didn't even want to tell you!" He laughed, uneasy. "I planned to just lay low in my room for the day, like I _was_ doing—but then Bee said you were asleep, so I just came to get a snack, and—"

"I get it!" Roy interrupted. "I get it—not your choice, not your decision. So let's hear this myth."

Garth sucked in a breath, expecting a toxic response. "Fine. All right."

"All _right_," came Roy's reassuring echo. "Let's hear it."

"So this myth," he began, "_is_ partially true—the main part, _that's_ true. But the details are a little sketchy. Like, in the myth, it happens on a person's seventeenth birthday, but I'm already seventeen."

Roy gave a nod.

"And on their birthday, for one day, they'd… _change_. The person would turn into someone else for a day. Usually it would be an Atlantean, someone of the opposite sex—but sometimes it would be a human, or someone of the same gender—and sometimes people would never even change at all!"

Lines were beginning to form on Roy's brow, his lips drawing into a tight line as comprehension started to dawn, despite his attempts to appear neutral. Garth seemed to sense the change though, and so his speech quickened.

"And the story goes, that whoever the person turned into is the… _most compatible_ for them, for the future." He looked down at the carpeting, restless. "I mean, I've only seen it happen once—with my cousin—she turned into this guy, and they… Well, if you believe the myth"—he let out a laugh of feigned skepticism—"then technically they were perfect for each other because they were chosen by the gods. Or something." He swallowed. "So they're like soul mates, wholly suited for each other. Like jigsaw pieces… or complementary angles… or peanut butter and jelly… or… I don't know, other things that go together…"

Garth risked a glance at Roy, whose expression was still painfully stoic. The prince cleared his throat and shrugged. "But hey, there are exceptions, I guess. I mean, a myth is just a myth, right? If it's wrong about which day it happens, it could be wrong about the significance too…"

He finally just let himself stop, and allowed a thick silence to smother the room. He could feel Roy staring at him from a few feet away but didn't acknowledge it, too afraid to look at him. He knew the archer was lost in thought anyway, though about what Garth couldn't even fathom. If Roy had ever turned into _him_ for a day and started spouting nonsensical but romantic Atlantean mythological phenomena, Garth probably would've been just as taken aback as Roy looked.

At last, Roy spoke. "I… I need to, uh…" He motioned vaguely toward the door.

"Yeah, go ahead," Garth said quickly. Moving unnecessarily away from the door, he bit his lip, shaking his head at himself.

A few minutes later, Karen appeared at the door, calling to him. Garth jerked from his reverie and nodded to whatever commands she was giving him.

"Did you even _hear_ me?" she asked after a second.

"No…" His lips formed an apologetic grimace. "I'm sorry."

"I _said_, you're soaking wet." She smiled when he made a face, having only just remembered his own unpleasant swim. "Slosh back up to your room and get changed, so you don't make puddles everywhere. Okay?"

"Yes'm." He saluted, passing her in the doorframe.

"Atta boy, fishy. Did you explain everything to him?"

Garth laughed and threw her a sideways glance. "You expect me to believe you _weren't_ watching the entire thing from the security room?"

"Touché," she allowed. "I was just being polite! I figured it would be awkward with me in the room."

"Yes, well, I don't think manners are going to help erase this from my memory… or his." Garth ran both hands through his short, red hair, and started toward the hallway with her beside him. "I would be stunned if he ever spoke to me again. By Poseidon, Karen, you saw his face…"

* * *

The next chapter makes me laugh...

(Part III of Carnipalooza 2009.)


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